


Decapitation Strike

by Ariella1941



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Cyberpunk, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 05:09:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6039469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ariella1941/pseuds/Ariella1941
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prince Sebastian Vael takes back Starkhaven from his cousin Goren, with the help of the mercenary company Hawke’s Misfits.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Decapitation Strike

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when I don’t sleep enough, drink too much caffeine and feel nostalgic. It’s Dragon Age with some Shadowrun concepts thrown in. 
> 
> Outside of the fact this is the retaking of Starkhaven, the story is very focused on what’s going on in the situation room, though there’s a LOT of Anders here. And yes, the timeline is different. The Gallows never happened because the Circle of Magi there doesn’t exist. The idol is out in the world, but no one knows who has it at this point. 
> 
> I am probably going to do a companion piece dealing with what the mage-templar conflict looks like in this version of the world, but that’s for another day.

Lilith Hawke looked around the makeshift Situation Room that Varric had set up in a manor near Castle Starkhaven. The home had once belonged to a merchant who’d been on the wrong side when Goren Vael ascended to the throne, and Lilith was positive that Varric picked this spot as much for its irony as he did for it location.   _It’s something he’d do,_ she thought as she stretched. Her back popped and the Kevlar and Dragon Scale armor she wore creaked as she turned her attention to the holographic “sand table” in the middle of the room.

At the moment it was configured with a three dimensional map of the castle, including all sorts of goodies that “Prince” Goren knew nothing about. Lilith leaned into the table, the glow putting greenish shadows in her blue eyes. Seemingly satisfied with what she saw, she turned her attention to her employer.

“Any last immortal words, your Highness?” she asked Sebastian Vael with an ironic smile, for they’d met when Sebastian sought help in bringing the mercenaries who murdered his family to justice. She hadn’t been Lilith Hawke, Champion of Kirkwall and Captain of Hawke’s Misfits then. She’d simply been a Ferelden refugee who’d been lucky enough to outrun the Blight, and who’d managed to acquire a strange and talented assortment of friends. It was only after the Qunari attempt to take Kirkwall that they transmuted into the best mercenary company in Southern Thedas.

“I can’t think of a thing that wouldn’t sound pretentious, Hawke,” he smiled back at her, and Hawke shook her head. It wasn’t surprising, really. She and the Prince had been over the battle plan several times, and were confidant in the menu of options they had, especially once they brought security down. With that thought she turned her eyes to the blond man lounging on the couch.

“Time to start the music, Anders,” she told him.

The mage gave her a laughing look then closed his eyes as a blue glow enveloped him.

* * *

 

_Time to start the music, indeed,_ Anders thought as he slipped into the Fade. Mundanes could only enter the Fade consciously with sync technology and high doses of lyrium. Even most mages needed the drug to keep a stable presence in the world of dreams, but not Anders.

_Justice?_ He thought to himself, waiting for the part of him had once been a spirit to respond.

_We hunt?_

_Yes, we hunt,_ he told his other self, _it’s nice when principle and payment merge, don’t you think?_

The spirit simply made a disgusted noise as they began to flow toward the complex structures that were Castle Starkhaven’s security systems.

Anders considered the issue with the same amusement and disgust he felt whenever they were about to pull a job like this.

No one had physically entered the Fade since the Seven Magisters of the old Tevinter Imperium stormed the Black City and were cast out by the Maker, bringing the Blight to Thedas. However, a dwarf named Caridin, developed a theoretical system that would allow a normal mind to enter the Fade consciously. An outgrowth of his work on golem creation, the theory had never worked with dwarves, who had no connection to the Fade to begin with. But in the tech explosion of a century and a half ago, the theory was dusted off, and now any idiot with a synch jack and a bit of lyrium could enter the Fade.

_Thank the Maker that lyrium isn’t that easy to come by_ , Anders thought as he confronted the outer shell of the Castle’s defenses.

Like most high end security systems, Castle Starkhaven’s merged its magical and mundane systems into Fade based constructs, and the wards configurations that confronted him were some of the most powerful Anders had ever seen, then Justice growled.

“Shit!” Anders managed to say back in the mundane world.

Hawke turned to look at him, even though the mage’s eyes were still closed.

“’Shit!’ isn’t exactly a situation report I want to hear, Anders!” she told him crossly, desperately running through contingencies. The strike teams weren’t committed yet, as they were waiting for security to come down. Everyone knew this decapitation strike was a throw of the dice, but a siege was too costly, and would give more time for Goren’s remaining puppet masters to entrench themselves.

“I just hit the first ward constructs, Hawke, and they’re blood magic,” the mage told her as the blue aura about him flared.

“Well, shit,” Varric looked up from his com station, a worried expression on his face. “You hear that, Ghost? Daisy?”

“This is why we ‘borrowed’ the Litany, is it not?” Fenris asked from his position in the sanitation access tunnels below the city. There was an exit into the system for the family in case of a siege. Almost everyone thought it’d been bricked up, a relic of the bad old days of bloody politics in the Free Marches.

“The Litany of Adralla doesn’t help with _wards_ , Fenris,” Merrill replied over the com channel.

“But it will help with the blood mages inside,” Fenris snapped back.

“Guys,” Varric drawled, “there’s this thing called communication discipline, remember?”

Lilith could almost imagine Merrill’s contrition, but more importantly, her infiltration and practical magic specialists now had a better idea of what might wait for them when they left the tunnels.

* * *

 

Back in the Fade, Anders had his hands full with the first set of wards. The power nearly blinded him, and he didn’t think of how much blood was shed to keep them at strength. A savage jolt from Justice forced Anders to look past the power to the construction, and he managed to keep himself from laughing.

_It’s a bloody_ tripwire _! With all the power they had, all they did was set a tripwire!_

Still trying not to laugh, Anders turned the lines of power back on themselves, creating a feedback loop that told the construct that the wire was still in place. It wasn’t difficult, just delicate, but with Justice’s help, it was a matter of moments. But even as he worked, Anders kept an eye on the second shell of wards, now visible. When nothing triggered, he nodded, satisfied and moved on.

“I’m passed the first shell,” he told Hawke in that half distracted voice he used when he was working, “these people have a lot of power but have no clue how to really use it. Coming up on the second shell, then I should be able to follow it back to the main security junction.”

Hawke bit her cheek, and said nothing. She knew as well as anyone Anders was working as quickly as he could. But her hands itched and she felt the weight of the Cadash Armworks .45 riding on her hip. Lilith wanted more than anything to be out there, to be the one leading this assault. She felt a hand on her shoulder, and turn to glance at Sebastian, who wore a sympathetic look.

She’d stayed back to coordinate the assault; he’d stayed because he had no experience with this kind of warfare. “Well, it’ll be over one way or another soon,” Lilith murmured, and the Prince nodded in return.

Anders heard his captain, but the words were distant, filed for later if necessary. He watched the lines of magical formula that made up the second shell of the Castle’s security system. While the first shell had been purely Fade based, these formulae made up the defenses in the mundane world. Again, they were powered by blood rather than lyrium, which confirmed the Misfits were looking at maleficarum and not apostates or mundanes with synch jacks.

He watched the bloody flowing script with the perceptions of both mage and spirit until he found what he was looking for. With a master’s touch he added an extra curl to one character, erased a partial line from another. The modifications were almost inconsequential by themselves, but taken together, the warding formulae would now treat the Starkhaven Guard’s transponders as hostile while allowing the Misfits to pass through safely.

Anders didn’t bother to gloat at his handiwork. There’d be time for that later, as the last of Castle Starkhaven’s security shell lay before him. This was no tripwire or elegant code, this construct was a fortress which housed the Guard’s command and communication node. And the guardian at the gate was no less than a leashed rage demon.

Justice took command at that moment, for the spirit had very concrete ideas about dealing with this kind of situation. Anders found himself encased in the armor of a techno-knight, great sword in hand, ready to do battle with the forces of evil.

As they engaged the demon, Anders felt Justice’s primal satisfaction. What was once a spirit of peace or faith (neither Anders nor Justice were exactly sure), had been twisted and leashed with bloody sacrifice. Destroying it would balance the injustice done, and fulfill _Justice’s_ purpose.

The clash lasted a moment between heartbeats, and the demon shattered into formless energy that was reabsorbed into the Fade. Anders felt another pulse of satisfaction, though he wasn’t sure he shared Justice’s belief that the energy released would one day return to its original purpose. It didn’t really matter at the moment, as the doors to the main security junction opened to them.

* * *

 

Varric watched the blank display in front of him, trying to will the damned thing to life.

“Work you stupid piece of…”

But before he could finish, the monitor came up, dividing into quadrants, as a sidebar registered that Castle Starkhaven’s systems had been thrown back onto emergency power.

“Ghost, this is Captain,” Hawke said over the Misfits’ com net. “Take ‘em.”

Hawke’s voice buzzed in Fenris’ ear, and he smiled.

“Ladies and gentlemen, you heard the Captain,” he told his squad of infiltrators as they moved into the passageway that led to the oldest part of the Castle, the part where their objective lay.

* * *

 

Hawke had one eye on the monitor and one on the holographic map. Now that Anders was shunting all the Castle’s information systems to her and her sit room team, she could follow both friendly and enemy transponders. And each time one of those friendly lights went out, she felt a small tear inside.

The squad had split into smaller fire teams, each taking a specific objective, and with the wards now working against the Starkhaven Royal Guard, it was easy for the Misfits to deal with any resistance they encountered. And now Fenris’ team reached the oldest part of the Castle. He looked at one of his men, a hulking human whose face was a half mask of cybernetics, curtsey of a wyvern who’d been haunting the lands of Comte DuMorne.

“Arden, if you would?” Fenris asked the private, who smiled wickedly, then dug his fingers into the Antivan leopardwood door. Synthetic muscle strained for a moment, then the door tore right off its hinges, opening the way to the royal suite.

* * *

 

Goren Vael was a small man in many respects, and he knew he ruled at the sufferance of his patrons. But those patrons were powerful enough to shield him from his numerous Vael cousins, especially Sebastian. But as the cracks of gunfire and the screams of the wounded and dying came ever closer, Goren curled up in his bed, terrified of what would happen when those sounds finally reached him.

He needn’t wait long as the doors to his chamber blew open, and several men and women dressed in black body armor, touched with red filed in. Almost all carried assault rifles with easy assurance. Some were obviously modified with cyberware, and they were led by two elves. The woman was dark haired, with large blue eyes and the facial tattoos of a Dalish. The man also sported tattoos, but nothing like Goren had seen on the elven servants. There seemed to be a glow about him, that had nothing to do with the light spilling in from hallway.

“Good Evening, Serah Vael,” the elf said, green eyes hard. “I believe someone wishes to have words with you.” He then nodded to the woman who released a small metal ball into the air. The ball hung there for a moment then hummed as the holographic image of Sebastian Vael, true Prince of Starkhaven stood in front of his cousin, resplendent in white armor.

“Hello, Goren,” the Prince said amiably, but his eyes were agate. “I believe you have something of mine, and it is past time you returned it.”

 The tiny man’s only answer was a terrified whimper.

* * *

 

In the weeks that followed Sebastian’s ascension to the Starkhaven throne, Hawke’s Misfits had been busy acting as city watch while the Prince began to recruit new guardsmen. Many of those loyal to Sebastian’s family had left the service or were forced out. They now made a triumphant return, marred only by the fact they were working beside mercenaries. Even ones commanded by the Champion of Kirkwall.

“Are you certain you won’t accept, Hawke?” Sebastian asked as they sat in one of the informal meeting rooms within Castle Starkhaven. “You’ve certainly earned it.”

“One title is enough, Sebastian, thank you,” she replied, “and the coin we were paid in was generous enough, especially considering Goren’s attempt to gut the treasury.”

The Prince shook his head, “Coin doesn’t seem like enough for what you and your people did for me, Hawke.”

Lilith snorted, “Coin keeps the Misfits running, coin allows us to resupply, to hire new people, to pay my people and their dependents, and give a stipend to the families of those we lose.”

Sebastian recognized the mulish look on his friend’s face, “If you change your mind, Hawke, the offer stands.”

“I’ll remember that, but I’m just glad to have the downtime for the moment. This is light duty, and it’ll give us a chance to catch our breath,” she laughed, “though Varric looking to line up a new job even as we speak.”

Sebastian let out a chuckle and said, “Just like old times.”

End


End file.
